[I try to start my day writing 250 words on anything. I’ll post one every Monday until I run out of good ones.]
Tomorrow is the most fateful U.S. election I’ve witnessed. I’ve already voted. You probably have, too.
If you have not yet voted and will walk into a polling place Tuesday undecided—in other words, if you are a one-in-a-million unicorn—and my endorsement means anything to you, I’d urge you to vote for Kamala Harris. The alternative is too heartbreaking to imagine.
I’m not an ideologue; I’ve voted for Republicans, back when they weren’t cowards or crazy. Remember when conservatives supported NATO and our “sucker and loser” soldiers, and opposed Communists and tyrants? Now they undermine our allies, insult wounded veterans and POWs, and mail dictators love letters tucked into COVID testing equipment.
Democracy means trusting that more than half the people get it right more than half the time. That still leaves a lot of room to get it wrong. Trump’s 2016 win is explicable as a fluke, but his triumph in 2024 would be a deliberate choice. This time we know who he is. If most of us (or at least an Electoral College’s worth of us) are fine with that, shame on us.
The American Experiment will have failed on our watch.
I don’t really expect my little essay to sway any opinions, but thought it was worth laying down a public marker. If Trump wins, I intend to do everything I legally can to resist his cruelty and fascism*. If one of his lickspittles is compiling an “enemies list,” I’d be proud to be on it.
*I debated using the word "fascism." It’s a serious charge. But if it’s good enough for General Milley and General Kelly, who ought to know, then it’s good enough for me.
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